


Orpheus

by Rinnagirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And I'm DRUNK WITH POWER, Because I can, Ben Solo always knew he'd end up inside Rey, Ben Solo deserves APOLOGIES from Luke and Anakin for coming to Rey and NOT HIM, Ben Solo is alive clown train, Ben is sassy, Ben vs swamp is the new Anakin vs sand, Bendemption 2k19, Canon Compliant, Dagobah is a Shit place to visit, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), High quality mother/son bONDING, I wanted more Leia, Kylo Ren Redemption, Leia is a COOL MOM, Like his parents before him, Make this canon you cowards, Not like this, Post TROS, Redeemed Ben Solo, Redemption, Reylo - Freeform, SO HE WILL GET THEM, Save Ben Solo, Slow Burn, So I ADDED more Leia, Star Wars Spoilers, TROS Fix IT, TRoS Spoilers, World Between Worlds, but like, choo choo bitches, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21984730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinnagirl/pseuds/Rinnagirl
Summary: "She feels a jolt; a once familiar tug in her gut overtakes her. It’s been two months since she last felt this feeling. The feeling of him. The feeling of connecting to him across lightyears of space rocks and stardust. The feeling of their Force bond comes alive inside her and she aches. She knows it is impossible to connect with a memory, for it to acknowledge her in return, but Ben’s eyes are focused, looking past the hovering lightsaber pieces and trained on her."After giving his life force to save Rey, Ben Solo awakens in the World Between Worlds. But is he destined to stay there or is there a future waiting for him back in the world of the living?Update coming: 1/24/20
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 35
Kudos: 141
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	1. World Between Worlds (Prologue)

The air _looked_ _strange._ That’s how he knew.

 _Well I suppose I’m dead,_ Ben Solo mused to himself. _This is the afterlife_? Somehow he never expected it would look like the _Falcon_ of all things. Not _his afterlife_ anyway, if such things were personalized. His father’s would, maybe even his mother’s, but not _his_. For him the _Falcon_ was always about _going_. Going away, going to. It was too liminal to be a destination, not even the destination of his afterlife.

The air was blurry, an odd, impossible thing for air to be, he thought. Maybe it couldn’t, not in the real world anyway, but this wasn’t the real world. This was _death_. Every object around him was cast in a soft, smudgy fade, like one of his carefully drawn calligraphy pages when his hand dragged through it before it had time to dry. He’d hated that.

The pessimistic part of him felt there was some sort of deep, cruel irony in his afterlife taking on the look of even the smallest of his pet peeves. _It would, wouldn’t it. My afterlife will punish me just as my real life did_. He sighed a great, put upon sigh at his new misfortune.

“Still as overdramatic as ever, I see.”

He froze. He hadn’t heard her voice in years. Not in the flesh at least.

But there was no mistaking it, just as there was no mistaking his heap-of-junk surroundings for the _Millennium_ _Falcon_ , there was _no_ mistaking the voice of Leia Organa Solo.

She looked younger, not much older than he was now, like she had in his earliest childhood memories. Her oval face, shaped just like his, was unlined. Her hair was without even the lightest trace of gray, twisted in her familiar twin side-buns. But her eyes pierced him, digging straight through to his heart with their dark brown daggers. The only unblurred thing in the room.

 _“_ Mother _.”_

“Ben.”

She was glowing, faintly though, not the full blueish light common to a Force ghost, but a pale white outline that bent and blurred with the hazy surroundings. Her eyes softened and he thought she might even smile...

Then she smacked him.

It was gentle, a light, exasperated smack on the back of the head like the ones she used to give his father whenever he said something particularly _scoundrel-esque_. The “ow” he emitted was more for her satisfaction than of any actual pain, just like his father used to do. He knew she would appreciate the effort.

“You have so much of your father in you.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring—”

“Only a _Solo_ would pull something so risky against such bad odds.”

He didn’t want to smile, but the tiniest eddy of pride swelled within him. She was right, as always. Running after Rey with nothing but a blaster to face down the Emperor and his entire cult perhaps wasn’t the wisest, most well-thought out strategy. But he felt it had gone rather well all things considered. Certainly better than he was expecting.

“Ben, a _good_ plan does not involve getting your life force drained from you.”

Right again.

“I _had_ to.”

He almost felt silly, like he was a teenager again trying to explain why he _just had_ to borrow Uncle Luke’s X-Wing without permission for “ _learning purposes._ ” But his mother smiled and the sincerity in her voice when she spoke was unmistakable.

“Yes, I know you did. She needed you.”

It was nice to be believed. Trusted by someone in his own family. It’d been so long since he had even heard his mother’s voice, let alone his mother’s voice telling him he did something _right_. He hadn’t expected to hear it ever again. Not after everything he had done.

But here she was. Wherever _here_ was. He assumed they were both dead, but if they were and this was, indeed, the afterlife then where was his father, Luke, his grandfather. His one comfort in the face of death had been the thought of seeing them all again, that and knowing Rey would be okay. But it was only his mother here. Unless...what if he hadn’t made it to the afterlife, at least not to the one where “good people” like his family would go? But then why would his mother be here in the afterlife for shitty people? She was, after all, the best of them all.

His mother read him instantly. She had always been able to.. When he was a child his emotions would play across his face like shadow puppets in front of a bonfire, open for all to see. But as he’d grown older, he’d learned how to hide some of them, but never from her.

She opened her mouth to answer his unspoken questions.

“The World Between Worlds. That’s where we are, I think.”

He studies his surroundings more closely. Being on the _Falcon_ made a bit more sense if that was the case. It wasn’t quite a destination itself, but it was the middle ground, the place between destinations. _How poetic_. _How stupid._

“But...I thought you...I thought you were...” He trailed off, unwilling to say it aloud, hoping that would somehow keep it from being true, even now in these odd circumstances.

“Dead. Well, yes, I suppose I technically am.”

“Technically?”

“Ben, before I died I used the last of my energy to reach you, to strengthen your life force and give Rey enough time to heal you.”

He subconsciously touched the spot where Rey drove his own lightsaber though his torso. Rey had been horrified, he saw it in her eyes; he knew from the moment he encountered her in the throne room of the Death Star II that the darkness had possessed her. He had used only the necessary defensive moves, parrying her blows and waiting to wear her out, giving her time to come back to herself. To the Rey he knew. And she had. She’d felt it, as he had, when his mother had gone. The memory ached more than the wound had.

“Because I transferred what remained of _my_ life force into you, my body didn’t become one with the Force until yours did. I believe my fate is tied to your choice, Ben. That is why I am here with you.”

“What choice, mother? I gave my life energy to Rey. I used all of it to bring her back. She was gone and I...I couldn’t just...I...” He choked down a sudden lump in his throat at the memory of Rey, eyes wide in a sightless stare.

Leia smiled and he knew she understood.

“I know.”

“Then how am _I_ here? If I became one with the Force, as you said, shouldn’t I be... _not here_?”

“I have a theory about that, Ben. I believe _your_ life force _lives_ in _her_ now, like a vessel. I believe it is awaiting the return of her own energy to her body.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” he muttered flatly.

Leia laughed, a warm sound, like fresh brewed caf.

“The Force works in strange ways, you of all the clever, and _studious_ Jedi pupils should know that, Ben.” She winked at him.

A feeling of contentment washed over him like a slide into a warm bath. It had been so long since his mother teased him. She used to do it whenever he was home visiting on breaks from training. Luke had told her how Ben always had his nose stuffed between the pages of some dusty Jedi text in his free time. It had delighted Leia to learn that her wild son could be interested in such a quiet, _scholarly_ pursuit. Hearing the teasing lilt in her voice again made him feel like that same little boy home to visit his mother. _He had missed her._

“Normally transferring your life force into another being would mean that theirs is completely gone, rejoined with the Force already. But it would seem that Rey’s may not have been completely gone. I think it is being held somewhere out there in the physical world still, waiting for her to reclaim it.”

Ben sucked in a few calming breaths, his heartbeat quickening.

“What would happen if she _did_ reclaim her own energy? What would happen to mine that is living within her?”

“Well now, that’s the real question, isn’t it? I don’t know that this has happened before. But if I had to hazard a guess, I would say you could reclaim your own energy and pass back into the physical realm, as long as you were there when she reclaims hers.”

Ben’s choked on his third calming breath.

“ _Go **back**?_“

“It may not be that simple. The Jedi have never been much for making things _simple_ , as you well know. But this feels like something beyond the Jedi. This is the Force at work, that much I am sure of. But of course, Rey would need to be made aware of this; she needs to seek out where her energy is being held before anything can be done at all. And to do that she’d need a nudge of some kind. Some inkling that something like this could be possible. But I don’t even know if we could intera---”

Leia had shifted into planning-aloud mode, her awareness of Ben lessening as the wheels in her mind turned, and she began to mutter under her breath.

Ben was overwhelmed to say the least. The sheer existence of a World Between Worlds, his mother, his soul _living_ _inside_ someone else, his soul living inside _Rey_.

 ** _Rey_**.

All his life he had relied on hatred to fuel him, push him, drive him. But then she came along, a scavenger from a desert nowhere, a _Palpatine_ of all things. She’d seen the good in him, believed in it and despite himself, he’d let her pure, guileless certainty touch him. She had reached right into the knot of his deepest conflicts and untangled him, unravelling the mask he’d created from the inside out. He didn’t know how or why, but she had. He’d felt lost, ignored, handed off, left behind all his life. But Rey...Rey _stayed_. Even as he fought her tooth and nail, pushing her to hate him, fear him like all the others who had claimed to care, she dug herself in and refused to let go. And he knew the moment he touched her hand through the bond that he would hold on just as tight.

She brought him back from the dark, and he’d brought her back from _death_. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of tragedy the moment he cradled her lifeless body in his arms. He knew when he pulled her to him that he’d give it all away, every drop of his life force. The soul in him would be hers too, just like his heart. He’d held her close and wondered for a moment what it would have been like if this weren’t the end. If they had just met in the middle somewhere.

_No war. No Jedi. No Sith. No Light. No Dark. No Palpatine. No death. Just them._

He didn’t know if he could have ever had a life. A real one. Honestly, he’d never wanted one, not since he was old enough to think about such things. Marriages meant mutual destruction, distance, the rot of once vital love. Children were just little versions of yourself you could disappoint and destroy. Families were meant to crumble and decay. None of it worked so why bother chasing down something that was destined to break.

But then she’d kissed him.

The briefest moment, the first positive touch he’d had in _years_. He didn’t even know what her motivation was—was it relief, the overwhelming emotion of all they’d just been through, gratitude, victory?

Or was it more?

He’d realized in that split second as he held her close—her hand on his cheek, his in her hair, her lips still inches away, and the only real smile he’d smiled since childhood on is face—that there were two things he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything.

He wanted her kiss to be more than relief, or gratitude, or any of those other things; he wanted her to _mean_ it; he wanted it to be the start of something, and not their final farewell. Then he realized he wanted a future.

Ben Solo wanted a _future_.

One full of kisses, and real smiles, and maybe even marriage, maybe even children, maybe a little home of his own...of _their_ own. Ben Solo wanted a future with _Rey_.

He knew his mother could feel it radiating off of him, that newfound resolve. A conviction rooted in a desire for _life_ , for life _with_ someone. He’d never valued his life when it was his own, but now, he’d given it to her and he couldn’t abandon her to live it alone. He _wouldn’t_.

He made his choice.

Ben Solo would get his future. Ben Solo would see Rey again.

_Ben Solo would live._


	2. Ashes and Memory

For what feels like the _hundredth_ time, Rey ignites Leia’s saber. Its blue beam casts the surrounding woods in an unearthly glow. The effect is _immediate_. A sound like a distant scream of frustration echoes in her mind, pounding against the walls of her skull like some caged creature desperate to break free. She drops the saber, hands shooting to clutch at her throbbing head, clamping down over her ringing ears. When the saber hits the ground, de-igniting, the silence is just as immediate.

Two months.

It has been two months since Exegol. Two months since she has been able to use the saber, _either saber._ Though it had meant the triumphant return of her staff, the inability to use the only sabers she had was becoming incredibly inconvenient. She could tell she was already losing some of her skill and coordination with single-bladed weapons after two full months of being _unable_ to even _ignite_ the sabers, let alone _train with them,_ without the horrible screams. Some days she vowed to ignore it and train anyway.

That never lasted long.

Even when there was no screaming, the alternative was not much better. It was either a desperate, trapped scream or a chorus of voices so loud they drowned out her every thought with their incessant chatter.

She glares at the saber resting _oh so_ _innocently_ on the forest floor. They are on Takodana at the moment, a place Rey would normally have enjoyed visiting. Poe and Finn were meeting with Maz to discuss what Rey usually referred to as “CC (co-comander) business.” In the months after the Battle of Exegol, the group of former Resistance fighters had kept busy. More than enough small pockets of First Order loyalists and even the odd scattered Sith cultist groups still stirred up enough trouble here and there to keep them on the alert.

Rey, honestly, hasn’t a clue what Maz and her friends are meeting about this time. She’s sure Finn told her, maybe no more than two hours ago on the ship, but like so much in the last two months, it just slips right off as soon as she hears it. She is distracted, and now, thanks to her _lovely_ _situation_ with the sabers, incredibly frustrated.

She picks up the saber, turning it over in her hands like she used to do with the scrap parts she looted from the ships crashed in the Jakku desert. Leia’s saber, like Luke’s, was a marvel. She never grew tired of the _schhwizz_ that accompanied an igniting lightsaber. But the Skywalker sabers still feel _distant_ in many ways, like they are still being _borrowed_ even though they had both technically been left to her. _You need to make one of your own,_ she thinks, not for the first time. _But how?_

She sighs, tucking Leia’s saber into her belt and settling into her meditative position. The Force hums around her, coming alive in her new attentiveness. She feels the grass growing and the brush of the wind across her skin as it stirs fly-aways loose from her buns. The solid earth presses upwards towards her and she can feel herself lifting up off it, her diving off point into a sea of feeling. A sense of pure calm washes her bones in sunset warmth. She concentrates. _Be with me. Be with me. Be with me._

She reaches out, stretching towards the memories and souls of the past Jedi, their experiences hovering at the edge of her consciousness like her own forgotten thoughts. There is a sense of understanding, of surety, and she chases after it, the fingered tendrils of her mind reaching further, tracking the feeling. She catches up to the memory, brushing against it like one might brush the hair from a lover’s eyes.

She sucks in a breath. It’s _him._

In her mind’s eye is a young Ben Solo, white padawan robes and all, eyes closed in focused meditation. Before him float the pieces of an unfinished lightsaber, twisting and hovering, held in place only by his concentration. She feels an understanding of what he is doing seeping into her own mind. Then the scene begins to flicker, the once defined shape of Ben Solo blinking in and out of form, alternating with another, smaller figure. It’s _her._ Her vision leaps rapidly between the two of them, both somehow occupying the same space and position. As she watches, the two begin to blur together before settling on the image of Ben once more, his eyes snapping suddenly open, wide and dark.

He is looking at _her_.

She feels a jolt; a once familiar tug in her gut overtakes her. It’s been two months since she last felt this feeling. The feeling of _him._ The feeling of connecting to him across lightyears of space rocks and stardust. The feeling of their Force bond comes alive inside her and she _aches_. She knows it is impossible to connect with a memory, for it to acknowledge her in return, but Ben’s eyes are _focused_ , looking past the hovering lightsaber pieces and trained on _her_.

“REY,” Finn's voice collides with her like a blaster bolt, ripping through her vision of Ben and snapping her meditative state in half, dropping her unceremoniously to the dirt. She is breathless and disgruntled when Finn reaches her and she has half a mind to smack him with her staff.

Times like this almost make her wish for the solitude of Jakku again. They’ve been _hovering_ over her these past two months, Finn and Poe. Moments of peace and quiet are rare. She knows they mean well, appreciates what they are trying to do for her. But it has been difficult to grieve with them around. There is something more personal about her grief over the loss of Ben Solo, something they would not understand. It wasn’t like losing Leia. It was like losing part of her own soul. He still felt close to her in some strange way that she couldn’t quite identify, but still, it wasn’t the same.

She hadn’t known what he was to her when she lost him, hadn’t had the time to even _try_ to work it out. Their relationship up until that point had been _complicated_ to say the least. So much so that she hadn’t even known how to explain herself when she returned from Exegol a shell shocked mess. They had attributed it to her encounter with Palpatine, to the revelation of her bloodline, to the loss of Leia. She had told them what she could in the simplest of terms. Told them that Ben Solo had had a change of heart after all, had come to help her fight Palpatine, had saved her life. Finn had pressed her about it, about the _life saving_ bit in particular, almost as if he knew that she had _died_ completely. She waved it off, claiming that he took a blow meant for her and died of the wound. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she lied to him, but something about the intimacy of that memory felt too precious to share with someone who still only knew him as the hated Kylo Ren.

There was only one person with whom she had shared the full account of the events on Exegol. She hadn’t expected the conversation, hadn’t expected to share so much, but Lando Calrissian was quite charming. There was an ease about him that seeped into her and knocked loose her secrets.

So few were the people left who had known Ben Solo before he was Kylo Ren. She had asked him with as much nonchalance as she could manage what Ben had been like as a child. Lando had studied her for a few moments before answering. But then he had launched into a tale of the time he’d presented young Ben Solo with a blaster with which he’d accidentally blown a hole through the wall of a visiting diplomat’s chambers.

Lando had caught her not long after that conversation in the back of the _Falcon_ , a small lockbox open in her lap that contained a plain black shirt with a hole burned through it and a familiar blaster. He asked her how she had come to acquire Ben Solo’s blaster and from there the truth had tumbled forth.

He had listened patiently, placing a comforting hand on top of hers on the blaster when it came to the difficult parts. A gesture that reminded her of Leia. She had even told him about the kiss. He didn’t press or ask her to explain, he only nodded, a knowing look in his eye.

“Some people are never really gone, Rey. Especially the ones we love.”

* * *

When they reach the ship Rey gathers Finn and Poe to her.

“There’s somewhere I need to go.”

Both Finn and Poe nod, but she can tell they aren’t really hearing her. Both are eyeing a precariously placed BB-8 on the roof of the _Falcon_ , his tiny blowtorch ignited in an attempt to reseal a crack that Poe had undoubtably caused.

She gives them each a light tap on the head with the end of her staff and they refocus their attention on her.

“I need to go to Dagobah. _Alone_.”

* * *

“Ben, are you _sure_ you know what you’re doing?”

Ben rolls his eyes, shooting his mother a look of thinly veiled annoyance.

“ _Yes_ , _mother_. I’ve flown _plenty_ of interdimensional ghost crafts before.”

Leia presses her lips together; a tiny, wry smile threatens to slip through.

Ben wonders if she can tell he is doing _none_ of the steering. It isn’t that he couldn’t fly the _Falcon_ if he wanted to, but _this_ _Falcon_ has a mind of its own and a clear destination that Ben cannot discern. He can’t even see through the front windows for the blue blur of lightspeed until they land, as if the ship has shifted from lightspeed to landed without need for transition. Then it’s nothing but _sand._

_Kriffing, World Between Worlds rules._

Before Ben can push the release on the door, Leia clears her throat. He only half turns.

“Yes?”

“I don’t quite know how this world works, but I wonder if perhaps we ought to dress a little more inconspicuously. We still don’t know if or how we will appear to others.”

He notes now that she has already changed into a spare set of clothes, ones she stored in a compartment long ago, still right where she left them, even in this strange dimension. Ben glances down at himself. All black. Perhaps she is right, it is a bit _dark side_ for what appears to be a hot desert planet.

She offers a bundle to him and he heads off to change. He snorts derisively when he opens the bundle. It is clear that these were once his father’s clothes. They practically _scream_ “scoundrel smuggler,” but there is no sense in disagreeing with an insistent Leia Organa, even in an alternate dimension. She turns away from him quickly when he emerges, concealing a small smile and a few tears, and he knows he must look _exactly_ like Han. Though he elects to keep his own black pants and boots, the loose white shirt and lightweight vest are better suited for the environment, necessary even. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He knows the low slung blaster belt and holster are nowhere near as necessary, but he straps them on anyway. _May as well._

The nearest village is eerily familiar, at least to Ben. The longer they linger, the more he remembers, and he truly wishes he didn’t. They are on Jakku in the village of Tuanul. The village is largely empty with the exception of a few marauding scavengers who seem entirely unable to see them. Leia calls out to one, even moving to touch the man’s shoulder, but there is no response. Her hand passes through him, a blurry mirage-trail of her movement following behind it. They are smoke and ash here, a match to the ruins of the settlement.

Ben is staring at one of the burned out structures when Leia returns to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Ben?”

“I did this.” His voice is no more than a choked whisper.

The air around them begins to stir, a sluggish tornado of trailing ash forming images as the remaining scavengers move off into the desert, unaware of anything more than a light breeze.

The images solidify, Ben’s memory set around them now in a frozen rendition of the past. The villagers cower in a huddled mass in the center of the village. Ben can see himself, as Kylo Ren, strike down Lor San Tekka. _No mercy, no pause, no regret._ They watch as he gives the Stormtroopers the order to execute the remaining villagers, and he looks away, unable to bear witness to the terror in their expressions. _The terror you caused,_ _Murderer._

He feels sick, an overwhelming urge to vomit pits his gut. _What did it matter if he could live again? Did he even deserve to? More than any one of these innocent people he sentenced to death?_

He stumbles away from the scene, finally collapsing to his knees in front of the memory-figure of Kylo Ren. His tears fall, mingling with the ash. Black raindrops in the sand. He’d thrown away his saber, but knows he can’t throw away his past actions so easily. He’d told the memory of Han Solo that he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to do what he needed to; Han had assured him that he did. So he had. He had thrown away his prized saber. He had _given his life_ for another. But _this_? What more of himself had he to offer? He was a ghost in the world now, not even a body or soul to give. Was there even anything he could offer that could atone for these sins if he returned to life?

Leia’s hand is on his shoulder again, warm and firm, offering a light squeeze of reassurance. He turns towards her, arms wrapping around her legs, his face pressing into her stomach like he is a little boy again, ashamed and afraid.

She strokes his hair, bringing her other arm around as she bends to hold him.

“Mother...” His voice breaks. “I don’t know how to undo the past. I don’t deserve to live again, not after all of _this._ ”

“ _Ben._ ” He never understood how his mother managed to sound both gentle and stern all at once, but there it is, the tone she would use on him when he was a child. He holds her tighter.

“Ben, there is so much you must unlearn if you are to live in the world again.” She cups his chin in her hand, tilting his face up to look at her. “But you have taken the _hardest_ step. The first step is always the most difficult, but it _matters_. It _means something_ that you made the choice to walk away from this life. I won’t lie to you, my son, you have done many things that are worth regretting. I know you did so much out of anger, out of fear, loneliness, sorrow...”

Leia’s voice shakes, her hold on him tightening.

“So much done out of the pain that we... that _I_ was supposed to protect you from.” Her tears flow freely now. “And I am _so sorry,_ Ben. I am sorry we ever made you feel like you were less important to us, like you were unloved or unwanted or abandoned. Your father and I _loved you_ and _still do._ And I want _nothing_ more than to see you live a life of happiness and belonging. Oh Ben, what you have done doesn’t matter nearly as much as what you _will do_. If you return to life, you need only live a life of deliberate, _intentional_ love. Choose to take care of others. Choose to be compassionate, protective, _kind._ You earn the life you live by making the lives of others worth living. _There is still time, Ben._ It is _never_ too late to love others, to care for them.”

She slides to the ground, kneeling before her son, placing both hands on his face.

“I sense _great love_ in _you_ , Ben. I always have, but now more than ever.”

With that he folds into her, clinging to her with abandon, a lost child found again. They stay like that for a time, the years of emotions ebbing away gently, leaving them both peaceful and renewed.

When they stand again, the memory-figure of Kylo Ren has dissolved into ash once more, scattered in the desert wind.

The pair once again move about the frozen memory, observing as parts of it begin to dissolve. Ben pauses in front of a lone Stormtrooper. A bloody handprint stains the trooper’s mask.

“What happened to the Stormtrooper? FN-2187. The one who defected...is he...is he _happy?_ ”

Leia smiles, nodding. “Yes, he’s quite happy now. He’s found a home. It is my understanding that he is now co-general with Poe Dameron who you might recognize.” She gestures towards a memory-figure frozen in the act of being dragged towards the First Order ship by two half-dissolved Stormtroopers.

She smiles at him affectionately. “Yes, Finn is in good hands.”

Ben nods, extending a hand towards FN-2187... _Finn_ , resting it on his shoulder.

“I am glad.”

* * *

Lightyears away Finn jolts in his seat, a vision passing before his eyes, the mug in his hand splattering caf onto Poe who lets out an indignant shriek.

“ _Kriff,_ Finn! What was that about?!”

But Finn barely hears him. His hand resting on his shoulder where he had just felt the touch of another hand. Not just any hand. The hand of _Kylo Ren_. Through new to his Force-sensitivity Finn recognized the Force signature immediately.

“Finn, _Finn_? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Poe is standing now, hovering near Finn, wide eyes creased with lines of concern.

“I...I think I _did_.”

Poe cocks one eyebrow at him, but doesn’t scoff.

“What did you see?”

“Leia and _Kylo Ren_. They’re _somewhere_. Not quite alive, but _definitely_ not dead. It’s hard to explain, but he _touched me._ ” He gestures to his shoulder. “Dead people can’t do that, Poe, not even through the Force! Look, I know it sounds crazy but—” Poe slides his hand to cover the spot on Finn’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze, effectively cutting off Finn’s babbling. He looks Finn straight in the eye.

“I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this fic will have a lot of moments that aren't exclusively Rey/Ben interactions. Honestly, there is so much more that needs to go on the facilitate their future. Ben Solo has a hell of a lot to do to atone for his past. There a lots of things he needs to learn about himself before he can really be with Rey. This fic is just as much about the growth of Ben Solo into someone Rey can really be with, so take these non-Rey/Ben interactions at the same value and trust me when I say that it will pay off later on. <3
> 
> Finally sat my ass down and wrote a full outline of the story tho! Be sure to subscribe for updates if you'd like to know what happens next! I've also done a few edits on the last chapter if you would like to read over it again. Nothing big, just a few things here and there. I've done my best to write everyone as in character as possible, and to construct a WBW scenario that complies with SW canon. I spent much of the last few days researching how the hell shit works in the SW universe for this express purpose. 
> 
> I have 16 papers I need to write, but Ben Solo comes first. 
> 
> Also, potentially looking for someone to Beta this fic, so lmk if you want them Early Access spoilers.


	3. That's Dagobah for You

Ben _knows_ she’s coming.

When they boarded the _Falcon_ back on Jakku, he’d attempted, once again, to steer the ship, but the _Falcon_ wouldn’t have it. Instead he was forced to sit back and wait to see where this _godforsaken_ _ghost_ _freighter_ would take them. Irritating as it was to not be in control, Ben had a feeling the _Falcon_ knew where they should go. So he chose, much to his chagrin, to _trust_ his father’s ship to take him to where he needed to be to find Rey.

He regretted his choice the moment he stepped off the craft and nearly tumbled face first into a swamp.

 _“Unbelievable,”_ Ben mutters to himself, gripping a nearby tree root using to balance himself as he yanks his other boot out of some muddy hole that has swallowed it. The _third_ _time_ such a thing has happened since disembarking on Dagobah no more than an hour ago.

Leia has already scaled a nearby fallen trunk and is smirking down at her frustrated son with an almost _illegally_ gleeful look. She is enjoying being young again.

“Something the matter?” She smiles at him, the _picture_ of innocence. Ben glares at her.

“I can’t believe she’s found a _worse_ place to go than the middle of the damned _Jakku_ _desert_.” The sand for swamp trade isn’t suiting him well, and he imagines it won’t suit Rey, a lifelong desert dweller, well either.

Leia offers him a hand, tugging him up onto the trunk alongside her.

“Don’t worry, Ben, we’re getting close to something, I can feel it.”

He can tell that his Force powers are muted in this state, more so than the more experienced Leia's, forcing him to the frustrating realization of how much he relied on them to sense and move about in the world with grace and awareness. If anything, he had expected his Force sensitivity to be _heightened_ by both his altered dimensional status and the natural Force connectedness of Dagobah. _No such luck._

He mutters, half to Leia, half to himself, about how it doesn’t seem particularly _fair_ that they can pass through _people_ but not other solid objects like the _building-sized tree root_ they are now required to climb over to continue deeper into this _hell swamp._ Though sweat, water, mud (so _much mud)_ , and the like appear to roll off them like raindrops, Ben feels there really ought to be more perks, and fewer sense-dulling drawbacks, to being a part of the World Between Worlds.

Alas, the predominant contribution of the World Between Worlds to their surroundings remains the smoky, dreamlike quality-- something that has increased tenfold in the ethereal fog of the Dagobah swamplands. The poor visibility makes searching for a handholds more of a risk than Ben is entirely comfortable with, given that his normally sharp senses are dulled.

“Ben.” He looks up to where his mother is steadying herself, clutching a thick, mossy vine. “Try a different vine.”

“Why?” He blinks at her, bemused, hand half a beat from closing around a sturdy-looking vine.

“That’s a vine snake, Ben.”

_Kriffing swamp._

“That’s Dagobah for you.”

Ben and Leia both startle at the familiar voice, Ben nearly tumbling off the root as he whirls to face the Force spirit of his old master.

“Luke!” Leia exclaims in delight; “I would hug you if I could, but I don’t know if I can touch a Force spirit any more than I can a regular person.”

Luke offers his sister a sad smile, “No, I don’t think so. But if Ben succeeds—and I’m sure you will, Ben, by the way—you and I will be reunited again soon.”

Ben is silent, as unsure what to say to his old master as he was in the moment of Luke’s apparent betrayal at the temple all those years ago.

He knows Luke can sense his hesitation.

“I know you need time before you can even begin to forgive me, Ben. I failed you as a master, and as an uncle, even in death. I wasn’t there on Exegol when _you_ needed me, but next time I will be. I _promise_ you.”

Ben can only nod. His parents are one thing, forgiving them came naturally, even if it hurt. But his master could have appeared to him when he was clinging to Rey, looking around wildly, desperate for someone, _anyone_ , to guide him, to help him save her. He’d sensed Luke—Luke and all the Jedi of the past—above him as he had climbed back towards Rey. But by the time he made it, they were gone. They’d abandoned him. Left him _once again_ when he _needed them._ Needed _him._ It was too fresh, too new a wound to mend right now.

Luke’s face falters, sensing what Ben cannot say aloud, but he nods and Ben returns the gesture. An unspoken agreement that they will revisit this in time.

“There is someone else who wants to speak with you.”

* * *

She knows it wasn’t _technically_ a lie, the claim that she needed to go to Dagobah to re-attempt her connection with past Jedi. She had told them that she needed to do so in order to learn how to construct a saber. Which _was_ true. But it wasn’t the _full_ truth.

She’d seen him. Seen Ben through the Force in her vision of his past self constructing his saber. And he had _looked at her_. Not up, not at the saber, not at anything in the vision, but beyond it and out _to her_. She could _feel it_.

After Ben faded into the Force, the one small comfort she had clung to whenever the loss of him overwhelmed her was the possibility that he might appear to her as a Force spirit, as Master Luke had done. But two months passed without a trace of him, ghost or otherwise. No matter how many nights she sat up til nearly dawn, deep in meditation, hands clutching the torn black shirt she’d carried back with her from Exegol, the sun would rise with no familiar pull in her gut, no hazy blue outline. And so she would curl in on herself and let the sobs shake her whole body. In those moments she allowed her sorrow to overwhelm her, beating against her in waves that left her paralyzed and powerless against the tide of her own emotions.

Master Luke had said that confronting fear was the destiny of the Jedi, but what about all of the _other_ feelings? How was a Jedi meant to handle the consuming sorrow of loss, the harsh boil of anger, the deep pull of longing. How was _anyone_ meant to handle such things?

A master would be useful during this time. But she would have to make do, have to figure some things out herself, as she always had.

When Luke spoke of his time training on Dagobah he’d explained how deeply intertwined the planet was with the Force, hence its appeal to Master Yoda. Logically, Force spirits could manifest wherever they desired, but highly Force connected locations like Dagobah and Ahch-To were ideal places to make contact. If there is anywhere that Ben might be able to appear to her, it will be deep in the swamps of Dagobah.

* * *

When Ben reaches the bottom of the root, there is another Force spirit waiting for him. He looks back up to where Luke and Leia remain perched on the root above. Leia gives him an encouraging nod.

He knows it’s a silly thing, but he is genuinely relieved that Anakin Skywalker is not wearing the mask of Darth Vader. When Palpatine had admitted— _bragged—_ about being every voice in Ben’s head, including his grandfather, something small and private in him had broken. He’d _trusted_ the voice of Vader, of his own grandfather in his head telling him that the dark side was _right_ for him. He had _believed_ in Vader. Learning that it had all been just some other _manipulator_ using his trust to control him had crushed Ben more than he cared to admit.

He is glad he can see Anakin Skywalker’s face. See his _eyes._ His father once told him that the eyes never lie. Granted he was talking about poker, but it still applied. He remembers that it was the first thing to strike him about Rey. After years of lying eyes, hers were clear—open, emotive, and honest. He’d known, despite himself, that he trusted her the moment she looked at him. 

“Ben, I am so—” _Sorry. Yes, I know. Everyone is so sorry._ He’s getting tired of the apologies. The damage has been _done_ already and no amount of apology can undo their actions any more than it can undo his. For once Ben wishes someone would say something, _anything_ , other than so—

“—proud of you.”

“What did you say?”

“I’m _proud_ of you, Ben.”

Stunned, he replies reflexively with the first thought in his mind.

“ _Why?_ ”

“You turned your back on the dark side, on Palpatine, on the power to rule the galaxy. It’s no small thing; I should know.” He smiles.

Ben can only blink. Snoke had so often insisted that Vader had made an error in judgment when he turned, convinced him that the Vader looking down on him would only be proud of his grandson if he upheld Vader’s _true_ legacy of conquest, darkness, and power. To Snoke, Vader was a mantle, not a man. But this isn’t Vader. This is Anakin Skywalker and Ben has no idea what to think of him.

“What was it...what first turned you to the dark side?” He is curious. As fixated as he has always been on his grandfather’s legacy, Ben realizes he knows very little of the man beyond Vader.

“The same as you, Ben. Love brought me back, but it was _fear_ that first turned me to the dark. I feared losing those I loved, my wife, my family. I was afraid of being alone. Just as you were. You feared your parents didn’t love you. You felt abandoned, and the dark side _thrives_ on that fear, Ben, on the ability to isolate you from those who love you. It teaches you to be jealous, possessive, and manipulative in order to take and keep what you want. But Ben, that is the _fastest_ way to lose someone you love.”

He knows, deep down, what Anakin is speaking of. He’d told Rey in Snoke’s throne room, when he first pleaded with her to join him, that she was nothing, though not to him. It didn’t make a difference if he thought it was true, if it was his own way of telling her she _mattered_ to him; it was manipulative. He’d sought to remind her that she was alone, that she didn’t belong anywhere if not with him in the hope that it would draw her to his side. Every time he’d attempted to turn her to the dark side he’d relied on honing that feeling of loneliness inside her, preying upon it, making her feel she had _no_ _choice_ but to join him. _Just as Snoke had done to him_.

He knows it was wrong. It had felt wrong even then and it gnawed at him still that he’d turned the very thing that _ruined_ him against the first person to show him compassion. The moment she told him, on the wreck of the Death Star with the sea raging around them, she had wanted to take his hand, wanted to take _Ben’s hand,_ he realized such a tactic was worthless on someone like Rey—Rey with her guileless eyes and her unrestrained faith in him. Manipulation was for people who were too afraid to trust others choose them, to care about them naturally. It had been his weapon, his crutch, his defense for so long.

But _everything_ about Rey scoffed at his master’s teachings on the necessity of manipulation in keeping someone in your life. She had thrown herself full force into reaching him, determined to dig out the good that she was so certain was inside him somewhere. She believed in him absolutely. It was almost miraculous. Rey had abandoned her initial hatred of him in favor of the possibility that the monster, Kylo Ren, was actually just a frightened, conflicted boy who needed help, needed someone to have real faith in him. She had locked on and refused to let go in a way that _no one_ had ever done for him.

Rey had willed Ben Solo back into existence with sheer force of conviction. And somehow she had sorted the marrow of him from the Snoke-molded sham of fear that was Kylo Ren.

It had unbalanced him. Rey was a new creature, entirely other to him in her ways, someone who forced him to reckon with his own worth, his own self-respect, with the man he _needed_ to be to get what he wanted. When he tried to manipulate her into joining him in the throne room, and again on the Death Star, she had given him a silent ultimatum. _You can show me your real face now or you can die a coward in a mask of lies. But I will not allow you to have Ben Solo. You will not bury him back inside of Kylo Ren. Either you are Ben or you are not, but I will not take your hand if you are not. Ben Solo matters and you will not take him from me._

He knew, as he should have before he even tried, that Rey would resist any attempt to manipulate her to Kylo Ren’s side. There was only one way to Rey and that was trust. Kylo Ren didn’t know how to trust. But he was Ben Solo, and Ben Solo didn’t need to manipulate because he _trusted_ Rey. He believed in her as absolutely as she had believed in him. And in the end, he knew that saved him from the dark.

Her light had exposed the lies he had come to accept. He knew the truth now. He didn’t need to be afraid, didn’t need the dark side to keep people in his life, because he knew Rey would never let him feel alone again. 

Ben is startled from his thoughts, brought back to the moment by the voice of Anakin.

“You’ve spent so much of your life preoccupied with carrying on my legacy, with _finishing_ what I started. But I wonder if perhaps you’re closer to doing so now that you’ve ever been.”

“What do you mean?”

“I started on the path when I sacrificed my life for my son. By that time it was already too late for me. I had lost my chance to live th life I had always wanted. Thrown away what could have been a lifetime of joy with the love of my life and our children. Your redemption, like mine, will be valuable to those you leave behind, but to make it valuable to you, it must be lived out in its entirety. I believe you will have the opportunity to do what I could not. You can live a full life, Ben. You can finish what I started, succeed where I failed.”

Ben knows Anakin is waiting for a smile, a nod, _any_ indication of excitement at the hopeful prospect. But a void of fear yawns within him.

“I don’t deserve that. I _want_ it. More than I can say. My mother said I would need to spend my whole life earning it, which I don’t mind, I just...”

“Don’t know where to begin?” Anakin exhales the words, a soft sigh of one who has spent untold time pondering that very question. Wistful in a way that tells Ben just _how much_ he understands Ben's situation.

Ben nods, eyes on his boots, his next words come out sounding small, full of childlike hesitation and sincerity, a tone that pleads for answers, for guidance. “Where would you have begun, if you had survived that day?”

Anakin is silent for a beat, though his answer was solidified long ago.

“With the ones I loved most. My children, the last traces of my beloved wife left in the world.”

Anakin’s sorrow is palpable, twisting thick in the air between them, a great coil of regret. Ben’s eyes prickle as Anakin's feeling cuts into his soul, forcing him to blink the burn of it away as Anakin offers him a watery smile.

“You can begin there too, Ben. The rest will follow in time. Great love saved you from the dark; it is the most steadfast path to the light. Once you reach the light, it is love for others, even just one other, that will hold you there. You _will_ have the life I wanted because there is _great love_ in _you_ , Ben Solo. I can _feel_ it. ”

And Ben can feel something too. It swells in him, warm and familiar, climbing up his spine, humming in his toes and the tips of his fingers.

_She’s here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all are sitting around just waiting for some quality Rey/Ben interactions (they will actually be in the same space next chapter I swear), but I hope you are enjoying the mother/son antics of Leia and Ben!
> 
> I've said it before, but I think there are a lot of things that go in to the transformation of a character. Ben Solo has to do more than chuck a saber into the sea before he can be worthy of Rey. I don't think Rey could realistically be with him without some of these key realizations/changes on his part, so we gotta do that shit first, my dudes. 
> 
> Hopefully the next update will be soon! The Dagobah scenes were originally all meant to go into one chapter, but I felt like I reached a natural pause at the spot where I ended this one. 
> 
> See y'all next time! Rec this fic to ya fave Reylo fic blogs on tumblr! I wanna spread it around as much as possible bc I'm having so much fun writing it!! I will link these chapters on my tumblr as well at smirkingsolo! I also take requests/prompts there as well. Updates for And I Will Follow are on the way, but this fic and I are just really vibing right now.


	4. Call Out My Name

Ben is crashing through the swamplands, the earth beneath rising to meet his boots just as his steps press down against it. The feeling spurs him on. He feels as he had the moment he landed on Exegol. His senses are too consumed with the urgency of reaching her to be bothered by the way the landscape fights to impede him.

Leia follows behind him and he knows she must be struggling to keep up with his eager pace. Ben looks back for a moment to his mother and she smiles, nodding. _Go. I’m right behind you.._

And he barrels on into the underbrush.

_I’m coming._

* * *

The humidity is a hot, wet _slap_ in the face, rushing at her as soon as the door of the _Falcon_ lowers. Rey is no stranger to heat. She’s Jakku desert raised for kriff’s sake. But this heat is _heavy_ , almost oppressively moist. The water in the air is violent for such a peaceful place, so intent it seems to be on _suffocating_ her to death.

She pulls the ties from her buns, braiding her hair back more securely and twisting it into a bun at the nape of her neck. She removes her outermost robe, leaving her in a wrapped tunic, fashioned after her old desert wear. She stares at the Skywalker lightsabers and they stare back. A battle of wits, a dare to ignite them though she knows where that would lead. She tucks Leia’s into her belt and Luke’s into a hidden compartment on the _Falcon._ She grabs her pack, slings her staff across her shoulders, and sets off to face the wild.

She searches the Force for a direction, a hint of anything unusual, reaching out as Luke taught her. She senses a pull and she allows it to catch her in its tide, drawing her out into the swamp.

After roughly thirty minutes of scaling, wading, _sweating_ , Rey can sense that she is drawing near to what calls her. It is unknown, unfamiliar, but it feels kind, helpful, and that is what she needs right now.

She pushes aside a wide-fanned fern and her eyes catch a small hut, tucked away like a secret. Her attention nearly skimmed over it. The fog of the swamp drapes across it like a shroud. It is a relic of a time she barely overlapped with and she wonders, momentarily, if it is even there at all.

The closer she gets, the more certain she is. This used to be Master Yoda’s home. It is long since abandoned, preserved like a fly in amber, held back from crumbling by a cage of tree roots. She creeps across a log to the bank, hesitating only a moment before dropping to her knees and crawling through the front door. There is a familiar anticipative feeling. A curious wonder, like encountering a new ship for the first time to scour for scrap.

She picks through the leavings inside the hut, reemerging into the damp of the swamp after a few moments. Strange places hold strange dangers and she thinks it best to scout the surrounding area before the sun sets. The fog already swirls thick around her. The eerie faded glow of light filtered through too many layers of mist and vine is all she has to go on. It’s not much and even that will disappear come nightfall. Overhead calls the rumble of a fast-approaching storm.

* * *

Ben’s arms sweep in front of him, carving a path through the plant life as easily as if his saber were in his hand. He smacks aside some large plant, stumbling into the open of a clearing. There is murky pond at his feet that he knows he should not disturb. On the far side of the pond is a dwelling of some sort, a pile of vine choked rocks with windows. He recognizes it from a distant memory that is not his own, a bedtime story on a cold night. He knows who one dwelled here. _Besides_ , he muses, _no one else would be crazy enough to live in a place like this._

He jumps when a figure crawls out of the doorway, someone wearing the mist of the swamp like a garment, and he reconsiders his previous sentiment.

The figure straightens up, the fog shifts, and suddenly Ben cannot breathe.

_I found you._

He calls out her name, it bursts from his lips a shouted prayer, but the croaking of frogs is the only answer he hears. She doesn’t turn. Doesn’t startle. In fact, she doesn’t seem to hear him at all.

The pit in his stomach opens up again. He runs to her, stumbling gracelessly across a precarious log to the bank where she stands.

His stride shortens, pace slowing as his worst fears crawl up his spine, whispering the truth he doesn’t want to face in his ear.

He steps around in front of her, but her eyes don’t focus, they still chase an imaginary horizon beyond the vines. One cautious hand reaches towards her shoulder, changing direction half-way. Instead he stretches his long fingers to brush against her face. But there is nothing but air. Where the warmth of her cheek should be is only cold. His hand passes through her as if she is the ghost, rather than him.

_She cannot see you. To her, you are mist._

She steps forward, passing through him like a shadow, and he can’t stop himself from sinking to his knees. His chin quivers, mouth working as he struggles to choke back the quiet sob bubbling in the back of his throat.

Logically he’d expected it. He’d known that she wouldn’t be able to see, hear, or feel him any more than the scavengers he and Leia encountered in the village on Jakku. But some irrational part of him had clung to hope, and when he’d felt her in the Force, her signature so pure and clear and _loud_ , calling out to him...he had run to her, ready to take her in his arms and hold her to him as he had on Exegol.

He can see his mother picking through the brush on the other side of the pond, just now catching up to him. Her eyes hold the same quiet spark of hope that his held moments before. Her face falls. Her eyes dart between the retreating form of Rey and her son’s empty expression.

He lets his head fall against his chest. Thunder rumbles softly above, a misty rain now coming down. There’s a drip from the tip of his nose. A raindrop or a tear.

* * *

The rain is falling steadily by the time she returns. She lights a small fire in the long abandoned firepit, the old ashes and damp wood fill the hut with smoke. She strips off her outermost layer of clothing, hanging her tunic near the fire to dry alongside her boots. Down to her upper bindings and her light leggings, she frees her hair from the braided bun and steps barefoot out into the rain. She tilts her head back for a moment letting the rain cool her skin and wash away the grime of her scouting trek. A peaceful smile settles on her face as she stretches her arms out, squelching her toes in the mud of the bank. There was something Rey _loved_ about the rain. The storm had drained much of the unpleasant humidity from the swamp air, leaving it fresh and fragrant, smelling of wet earth and _life_. Jakku was never like this.

Striding back towards the hut, Rey settles at the edge of the doorway, just far enough back to shield her from the brunt of the storm. She assumes her meditation pose, legs folded, eyes closed, lungs full of the sweet scent of the rain. With deep breaths she synchronizes the beat of her heart to the steady rhythm of the rainfall. Behind her the fire crackles and she can feel the warmth of it drape over her back, evaporating the rain from her skin. _Be with me. Be with me. Be with me._

* * *

Leia watches her son from behind a thick root cluster. She thinks it best to give him space after the look she saw on his face, though it pains her to do so. 

Sitting on a large rock at the edge of the pond, his eyes have remained fixated on Rey from the moment she returned from scouting. There is a wistful longing about him as he stares at her and Leia can’t help but wonder what Rey had said to him during the times they connected through their Force bond. Ben hadn’t said much about it beyond the technicalities when she’d inquired how he’d come to know Rey so well. She sensed that there was something deeply private, something _intimate_ about their bond that neither would be eager to share with others.

Rey emerge from the hut, layers stripped away so the rain can kiss her skin. Her arms stretch towards the sky, calling it to her open palms. Her head is tilted back, eyes closed, lips painted with a smile of peaceful bliss. But Leia’s eyes are on her son, studying his face as he takes Rey in. His lips are parted in wonder, pupils blown wide like he’s trying to take in all the stars in the galaxy at once. Ben is fascinated by her, watching her like one who’s lived underground his whole life witnessing the colors of sunrise for the first time. Something in his expression seeps in and warms her very bones, an incredible, reverent _longing_ that Leia recognizes, _remembers_. Han Solo used to look at her with eyes like that. Yes, she knows that look and for the first time she understands wholly why he wishes to live again. It isn’t about redemption, it isn’t about living more years; it’s about her. Rey. His equal, his frustration, the hidden-most wish of his soul.

She can’t help but wonder how Rey feels about _him_. Their relationship is complicated, that much is obvious, even to the casual observer. Rey hated him once, hated him for killing Han, just as Ben hated himself. She thought him a monster until, suddenly, she didn’t. Rey left for Ahch-To certain that Kylo Ren was her greatest enemy, yet she returned _changed_. Leia could no longer sense anger when Rey spoke of Kylo Ren. Instead there was an incredible sorrow, a deep, personal _hurt,_ as if she’d had to say goodbye to a friend. She could sense Rey’s care for him then, and she dearly hoped now that it was of the same ken as his.

Ben settle himself in front of Rey, mirroring her meditation pose, rain pouring down on him as he sits just beyond the reach of the roof. He doesn’t seem to mind. Unlike Rey his eyes remain open. They hold her face like gentle fingertips. There is a softness in his expression that makes Leia smile.

Leia turns to her brother as he reappears beside her, face washed in the pale blue of his Force spirit aura. She knows they can both feel her son’s emotions bleeding through the Force, radiating from him like ripples in a pond.

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

“Nothing crazy about it, Leia, he’s _your_ son. _Han’s_ son. If I didn’t know any better I might even call it _predictable._ You know Han would have died for you and that self-sacrificing Solo streak lives on in Ben now. As for her, she reminds me _so_ much of _you_ , Leia. It’s almost scary. I admit I feared the worst when I saw them, hands touching in that hut on Ahch-To.” He sounds almost ashamed, “I thought he might be using her. But it seems now that I couldn’t have been more wrong. I feel like I’m watching Han fall in love with you again.”

“Don’t say that.” Her voice is quiet and she struggles with her next words in a most un-Leialike way. “Han and I...we burned each other up. Burned each other _out_. At the price of our own child. We were so selfish. I want them to be different, Luke. But all he’s ever seen is a love like Han and mine, temperamental and ruinous. Luke, I don’t want him to think that’s all there is. You know how much Han and I loved one another and I don’t know that my son ever got to see that part of us.”

Luke’s voice is steady and sure. “Look at them, Leia. They will be just different enough. I _know_ it.”

She nods and looking at them, at the way Ben leans forward, memorizing every line and freckle of Rey’s face as she sits unaware. She knows he’s right.

“I wish I could have been better for him. As good for him, as she has been.”

“I know, Leia. And I wish I could make it up to him but—”

A sudden rush of excitement, of urgency, grips her and she interrupts.

“Luke, you _have_ to tell Rey. Appear to her, tell her Ben is here! Explain that he is trying to get back to her, explain that her life force isn’t her own and then mayb—”

“I can’t, Leia.” And he sounds even guiltier than before.

“ _You can’t?_ What do you mean _you can’t?_ She _has_ to know and while we may not be able to appear to her because we are in the World Between Worlds, _you_ —”

“Leia.” He puts a hand up to stop her words and she knocks it away with a huff. “Father and I, we chose to appear to you and Ben, but I realize now that we are in the World Between Worlds _with you_. I know it doesn’t make much sense, but the World Between Worlds is a dimension of its own, one running parallel to the living world. Because we chose to appear to you in your dimension, we can only manifest here now.”

Leia is stunned.

“Luke...”

“Well you needed me so I—”

“How could you be so _stupid_?” He has the decency to look abashed. “Luke, you and father, how could you think that it was a good plan for _both_ of you to come _trap_ yourselves with us?!” She throws her arms up in the air. _The Skywalker men all really do operate off of **one braincell**._

He cuts in as she begins to pace, her anger rising. “Leia, I didn’t know it would work like this! Besides, I’m sure it will be fine. After all, Obi-Wan and Master Yoda could appear and offer Rey guidance if necessary—”

Leia whirls around, she looks _truly_ exasperated, eyes alight with something that makes Luke, an untouchable ghost, step back.

“Oh _good._ Obi-Wan who told you that Anakin Skywalker was _dead_ , killed by Vader, when he _was_ Vader all along and then had the audacity to call it a matter of “viewpoint!” And of course Master Yoda is wise _but master of clarity and straightforwardness, he is not_.”

Luke doesn’t want to laugh, knows he absolutely should not, given the circumstances, but Leia’s impression of Master Yoda is masterful to say the least, and a little exhale of a laugh escapes.

Her eyes narrow immediately and she moves to smack his arm, her hand passing straight through him, but the sentiment is there.

“Leia, I’m sure it will be okay. Like I said, he’s _your_ son. There has to be some of your good sense in him. He _will_ find a way, I know it. Ben has everything he needs, he just doesn’t know it yet. Most importantly, he has a reason to fight, to hope, and because of that he will not give up. I believe that persistence is something he inherited from his mother.”

It’s flattery, but she knows he is sincere.

* * *

Rey can feel the Force thrumming between the trees, in the rain, under the ground. The presence of it is stronger than she has experienced nearly in any other place. The weight of it is similar to how it was in the cave on Ahch-To. Something is focusing it, concentrating it. But it remains nothing more than energy. No visions, no spirits, nothing remarkable appears to her. Including him.

She can’t help but feel the creep of disappointment. He’s there, in the pit of her stomach where he always is, but she knows it’s just the memory of him. Yet, something else inside her feels _different_. Tendrils inside her reach outwards, feeling around, _searching_ for something. And for a moment it is so strong that her meditative concentration breaks, eyes flying open, darting down to her tingling palms.

An odd sensation overtakes her, and for a moment she is a stranger in her own body. Removed, _other_. The tendrils stretch forward, towards what she cannot say, but she knows when they find it. Another feeling washes over her, her senses warm, sensitive with energy, collide with the _something_. It’s like seeing her own bed, putting on the clothes she brought from Jakku, hugging her friends, fixing a droid, flying the _Falcon_ , twirling her staff...a feeling of familiarity and belonging. She feels empty, yet right, like something in her has found its rightful place, but is leaving her behind to do so. This reunion is happening outside her. She is an observer, not a participant and this belonging is not hers to claim. Suddenly, her mind is flooded with images of sabers and crystals and a thin flicker of understanding lights inside her. And then she hears it.

“ _Rey._ ”

* * *

Ben knows she can feel him, can feel _something_ near her. Her concentration is ebbing in and out as the minutes pass. Yet, the longer he spends with her, the more _whole_ he feels. At first he is sure it is just her presence that bears with it such a feeling, as it always had when they connected through their Force bond.

But this is different. There had been an emptiness in him after he healed Rey, transferring his life force to her body. He realizes now that the void inside him is reaching out to her, sensing the presence of _his_ life force inside, longing to reunite with it.

The longer he is in the presence of his soul, the less empty and more solid her feels and he wonders. _What if...maybe..._

He concentrates on reaching out towards his own energy, drawing it closer to him. He can feel it coming nearer, and with a feeling like breaking the surface of water from below something _connects_. Caught up in the sensation of it, his mouth opens to react before he can catch up. Her name tumbles from his lips and she jerks in surprise, eyes snapping up in his direction, scanning, desperate, _searching_. He reaches for her hand, willing it to make contact before the connection slides away. But it passes through, just as before. Both of them chase the feeling to the edge as it disappears, fading back into the sea of Force energy around them.

But she _heard_ him. She _knows_ he is out there now. He can feel it, a surety that huddles in the marrow of his bones and refuses to be contradicted.

* * *

Rey stares into the darkness of the swamp, a crash of thunder echoes, the sound bouncing off the stone walls of the little hut. She jumps, every fiber of her senses on edge, still searching for the source of the voice.

It’s _him_. She can _feel it_. She knows his voice, knows the way he says her name, knows _him_.

Suddenly, a blue glow flares to life near the pond outside. She nearly knocks her head on the low ceiling as she hastens out the door, heart leaping to her throat in her excitement, as she cries out.

“Ben?!”

“Young Solo, I am not,” comes a new voice, nasal and gnarled, words tangling like the roots of the swamp trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I've never written slow burn before, but I'm definitely starting to see the allure of torturing others like this. I dig it.
> 
> Hope to shorten the time between chapters, but I'm about to go back to school (RIP).
> 
> Also, I often go back and edit things in my chapters after posting them, so it merits going back to read them again if you have the time! Nothing big, just adjustments to the tone, voice, wording, etc.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update! I struggled a bit with this and the conversation that comes at the beginning of the next chapter. It was initially part of this one, but I thought I needed a bit more time to work with it.
> 
> As always, your feedback means the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> I know you're not here for logic, you're here for the Ben Solo Is Alive Clown Train. And man so am I. But I did try to make this canon compliant and plausible. Realism is the heart of fantasy. 
> 
> Haven't written a multi chapter fic since 2011, but that's just how much I love my son. A little bit of a slow burn, but like faster. Let's call it a Poe Dameron slow burn.
> 
> Subscribe for updates/drop a comment below if you are enjoying it!
> 
> Keep chugging Reylos <3


End file.
